


The Wolf and the Hedgehog

by pinecone



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Introspection, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinecone/pseuds/pinecone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nijimura thought he had left basketball completely behind when he left Teikou, choosing to focus only on his family. And then Riko waltzed into his life.</p><p>This is a story of boy meets girl, and the unlikely bond that forms between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update since Replace V was released: If you consider the Replace novels as canon, this story is technically an AU.

It was a hot July. So hot that the sweet smells of popsicles were in the air, and the clicking sounds of bicycle spokes and wheels were everywhere.  
   
The nights were just as hot. Even the nightly breeze had a heavy quality, as though carrying the weight of the temperature as it blew through the streets of Tokyo.  
   
This night wasn’t any different.  
   
Nijimura scowled and fanned himself with the clipboard he had been carrying as he recorded the inventory of the biscuits and confection on the shelves in front of him. After writing down a note on his clipboard –  _13 packets of Meiji crackers –_ he moved on to the next shelf, meticulous in this tedious work.  
   
He had already reached his fourth month working at that convenience store, a Family Mart just twenty minutes away from where he lived. It was a suitable workplace, because he could pop there after school for his evening shift, and head home right after.  
   
And in the event of any emergency, he could reach home in just ten minutes of running. He would be able to see the faces of his younger brother and sister, and his mother, as she tirelessly juggled a job on top of taking care of his siblings.  
   
Nijimura then thought of his father in the hospital, as the faces of his family filled his mind. And his father’s smile. The upturn of his lips that always conveyed to Nijimura that things would be all right. The joviality of his jokes, even as he lay weak and barely able to sit up properly on the hospital bed, within those painted, all-white, detached four walls of his room.  
   
He shook his head slightly, and straightened the clipboard in his arms. With a determined frown, he moved on to the next shelf.  
   
Just as he was scribbling down ‘ _15 boxes of plasters’_ he overheard loud yells and catcalls coming from outside the store. Turning his head to look at the source through the transparent glass windows, he saw a group of five boys around his age, dressed in dark hoodies and jeans hanging around just to the left of the convenience store entrance.  
   
Nijimura narrowed his eyes. They were throwing crushed pieces of paper at a pair of girls walking by across the street, and wolf-whistling. The girls were doing their best to ignore the calls, but the boys were getting louder.  
   
Nijimura turned back to the clipboard in his arms, and felt his eyebrows turn into a deep furrow. He stared at the statement he had written down,  _15 boxes of plaster._ The words squiggled and jumbled in his sight.  
   
No, he tried to convince himself. You really don’t want to get into a fight. It’s 11.30 at night and your shift ends in half an hour. You don’t want to get into trouble.  
   
His fingers twitched as he held onto the clipboard and the boys’ jeers became louder.  
   
He was holding his breath, hoping that this effort could also cap down his anger, when he overheard one of the boys say an exceptionally vile thing, one that he couldn’t even repeat in his mind.  
   
Nijimura felt his mind go blank, and suddenly he could only feel throngs of anger course through his body, the tentacles reaching out into every nerve and making him act.  
   
Before he knew it, he was throwing the glass door open, and yelling out profanities at the boys. Profanities which eventually mutated into a form of lecture. It flowed out so smoothly from his lips, as though he never lost it since his days in Teikou.  
   
“Damn it, you shouldn’t be treating girls this way! You should respect them! How would you feel if someone said that to you, huh?” He glared at the boys, hoping his words would straighten them out.  
   
“You’d feel shit about yourself, that’s what! That’s what those girls are feeling right now! So get a hold of yourselves and start acting like proper men.”  
   
He continued glaring at them, his anger fueling a sense of recklessness and boldness.  
   
The boys looked at each other for a moment in surprise at his sudden appearance, then turned back to him with scowls to match his.  
   
“Piss off! Son of a bitch.” One of the boys directed an obscene gesture towards him. “You look just like some wimpy  _loser._ You can’t tell us what to do!”  
   
Nijimura felt his fingers itch to get into fists, remembering all his karate moves all those years ago. He took a deep breath, and started to say, “The ones who are the complete  _assholes_ right now are you guys, what with the way you treat girls-”  
   
Before he could finish his sentence, one of the boys rushed forward and punched Nijimura in the jaw, the moment he heard the word ‘asshole’.  
   
Nijimura felt the impact and heard the sound of the punch before he realized it had even occurred. He staggered backwards from the blow, fingers struggling to grasp something but finding only the smooth pane of the glass door to the convenience store.  
   
Then he felt the pain.  
   
It blossomed from a point in his jaw like a daisy delicately emerging after a storm. Only the imagery wasn’t so pretty to Nijimura, because the pain was acute and sharp, and hurt a whole  _lot._  
   
His vision blanked out, but he felt his fists moving reflexively. And suddenly he was brawling with the boys; he was punching one of the boys while another was hanging onto his back; he was kicking another boy away while holding another by his collar; he was dodging a boy as he ran yelling towards him; fists were being thrown about at him.  
   
He was drawing a fist back to punch one of the boys as he held his collar when he heard a very familiar voice come from inside the convenience store.  
   
“Oh  _dear!_ What is happening!”  
   
Still holding the other boy by the collar, he turned to see Shino-san, his 60-year-old store manager, look at him with his hands over his mouth. His mouth that was usually upturned in a gentle, toothless yet considerate smile every time he looked at Nijimura, and made Nijimura himself smile in response.  
   
It was now open in horror.  
   
The boy within Nijimura’s grasp took the distraction as an opportunity to wriggle out of his grip. He shoved Nijimura away, then ran away, while shouting out, “Run, run, run!”  
   
The shoes of the boys made an erratic racket as they dashed away from the convenience store.  
   
Nijimura had stumbled backwards from the hard shove and he fell against one of the glass windows of the convenience store. The moment he hit it, it let out a loud cracking sound that originated from the place where Nijimura had hit it, and petered out in a jagged manner.  
   
“Shit,” Nijimura swore. Placing a hand on the ledge to stabilize himself, he turned around to look at the window, just as Shino-san hurriedly went over to Nijimura to check his state.  
   
Nijimura didn’t pay any attention to Shino-san as he fussed over him, patting his shoulder and asking him to come into the store to get fixed up. He was looking at the window, and feeling his stomach drop at the sight of it.  
   
There was now a large crack in the pane. It looked like a spider’s web, and the so-called ‘spider’ was a hole right in the middle of it, at exactly the point where Nijimura had hit the window.  
   
He swallowed, barely feeling Shino-san patting his forearm, then turned to look at the old man.  
   
“I’ll pay for the replacement, Shino-san. I’m sorry… _truly_  sorry about this.” His voice cracked slightly as he stated the apology, and he winced at the sign of weakness.  
   
Shino-san looked back at him, and tilted his head. A smile broke out on his face. The same smile that always made Nijimura feel like maybe he was only a seventeen-year-old boy after all.  
   
“Don’t mind, don’t mind, Shuuzou-kun. It’s only a window.” His eyes crinkled in an endearing manner, all his wrinkles stretching out behind wisps of grey hair. “Now come in and let me check if you’re okay.”  
   
He turned around and hobbled back into the store.  
   
“Thank you, Shino-san,” Nijimura called at his back, trying to inject genuine appreciation in his tone. He always found expressing himself difficult, even as a child. “I’ll tape it up tomorrow morning.”  
   
Shino-san only waved his hand without turning to look at Nijimura as he continued hobbling into the store.  
   
Nijimura felt his lips curve into a smile as he watched Shino-san go into the store. Then he turned back to look at the window.  
   
He sighed heavily as he looked at it. Look at you, he berated himself. You just always have to straighten people up, huh. You’re not captain anymore.  
   
He turned and walked back into the store, following Shino-san.  
 

*  
   
   
The next morning came with the tinkling sounds of children’s laughter outside the convenience store. They dragged their parents by their hands, hopping about on the spot and begging them to go faster to the swimming pool.  
   
It was Saturday morning. It had an air of laziness which usually came with the certainty of a family outing to the beach, or playing kites in the fields.  
   
Nijimura was crouching by the cracked window of the convenience store with a roll of tape on one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. He grimly ignored the sounds of the children as he methodically taped the crack. Even as they wafted into his ears and burrowed into his mind, making him think of his childhood, and the precious moments in which he played Sudoku with his father.  
   
He sported a large purple bruise on his jaw, a souvenir from the previous night’s fight. It was a mark of shame for Nijimura, like a splash of ugly paint on a pure white wall. He had had to explain everything to his worried mother that morning, as she gently stroked his jaw and admonished him for his reckless behaviour.  
   
“I thought you had outgrown your karate phase, Shuuzou,” she had said as she clucked her tongue. A teasing smile stretched across her kind face, highlighting the crow’s feet around her eyes becomingly. “Wasn’t that only to attract girls?”  
   
“More like to keep irritating juniors in line,” Nijimura had retorted sardonically. He had turned towards his younger brother and sister, and lifted his forefinger. “Do  _not_ follow your big brother’s example.”  
   
He couldn’t keep his lips from turning upwards as his younger brother had proceeded to immediately smear purple play-dough all over his jaw, and grinned lopsidedly up at Nijimura. As he left the house for his Saturday shift at the store, he couldn’t stop waving back at them until he had gone too far to see his younger brother trying to do the same to his sister.  
   
As he finished taping the final crack on the window, he placed a hand over the tape and rubbed it, letting out faint squeaking sounds. Then he stood up, let out a relieved breath, and walked back into the store.  
   
“The window’s all taped, Shino-san,” called Nijimura towards the back of the store where his old manager was cataloguing items, and he heard a distant thank you.  
   
He lightly curved his lips into a grim smile, then strode towards the cashier counter. He picked up the clipboard he had been perusing the night before, then walked back towards the shelf he had stopped at.  
   
“Let’s see…fifteen boxes of plasters,” he murmured to himself as he continued recording the items inventory. He grimaced slightly as he brushed against his bruise when he lifted his fingers to his jaw in thought.  
   
He moved towards the left of the shelves, nearing the entrance of the store, still absorbed in his task. Just as he was writing down ’10 packs of cotton pads’, he heard the bell on top of the door to the store tinkle, signaling the entrance of a customer.  
   
He automatically turned his body to face the customer, and said, “Welcome to the store.”  
   
But when he was turning, he had kept his clipboard out on his extended arm. The customer, a girl, had not been looking up as she walked in, and she walked into his arm. It would have been a harmless bump, if not for the fact that Nijimura had turned his body the same time she bumped into him.  
   
The moment he turned, she stumbled out of balance, and she crashed into the shelf opposite the one he had been looking at in the narrow aisle. Several packets of biscuits fell at her impact, making loud crackling noises as they hit the ground. They were followed by several loaves of bread wrapped in plastic.  
   
And then several more boxes of chocolates fell. Onto the pile of assorted snack foods and one girl.  
   
“ _Shit,_ what the  _hell,_ damn it…” Nijimura heard the girl let out a string of curses, as she remained crouched on the ground next to the shelf. She had fallen due to the impact.  
   
“I’m sorry,” said Nijimura automatically. He knelt down, placing the clipboard next to him on the floor. “Are you alright?”  
   
He extended a hand to help her up, and she turned her head upwards to look at him viciously into his eyes.  
   
“ _No,_ I’m not. I just crashed into this  _shelf,_ causing a whole load of food to come down on me,” she snapped at him acidly.  
   
The moment she met his eyes, Nijimura blinked. Her eyes were slightly watery. The girl had been  _crying._  
   
Nijimura felt panic run through his body for a moment before he remembered what he usually did for his younger sister whenever she started crying because his brother had gone too far in his teasing. But somehow, he thought this girl wouldn’t stop crying just because he pulled a funny face.  
   
He cleared his throat, and was about to say something – anything – when the girl looked away and cursed again, “ _Shit._ ”  
   
Nijimura followed her gaze to the floor. “Shit,” he echoed.  
   
The boxes of chocolates that had dropped down at the girl’s impact on the shelf had fallen open. Various pieces of chocolates were now strewn all over the floor.  
   
They both slowly turned to look at each other.  
   
Nijimura saw the girl’s eyes narrow and had a premonition that she was going to start berating him. Before she could open her mouth, he quickly cut across to say, “Don’t worry about it.”  
   
The girl stopped just short of opening her mouth, and blinked at him.  
   
He took a deep breath, and continued, “Let me handle it. You can just go off…doing whatever you had to do.” He forced a smile on his face as he looked at her.  
   
The girl blinked again. Then she slowly opened her mouth, and said, “Thanks.” The incredulous tone was obvious in her voice.  
   
Nijimura nodded and helped her off the floor. She turned around to leave, but before she started walking, she swept a gaze over him.  
   
It was a calculating, meditative gaze that made Nijimura feel like he was under a microscope. He followed her pupils as they traced his jawline where the bruise was at, and then his arms, and his torso.  
   
After the gaze, she nodded once at him, and left the store. All that remained of her presence was the tinkle of the bell as the door opened and shut.  
   
Nijimura looked downwards and grimaced. And the massive pile of snacks on the floor.  
   
Fighting off a sigh, he leaned down to start picking up the packets of food. Shino-san chose that moment to enter the main area of the store from where he had been bustling in the back room.  
   
He stopped walking when he saw Nijimura surrounded by packets of food, and pieces of colourful chocolates strewn around him.  
   
“Oh, dear, Shuuzou-kun.” Shino-san frowned, and rubbed his chin. “What happened here?”  
   
Nijimura straightened up from where he had been crouching on the floor to face Shino-san directly.  
   
“A dog came in here wanting to get at the food. Naturally I chased it away,” he deadpanned. Glancing down at the chocolates, he said, “Chocolates are toxic to dogs after all.”  
   
Shino-san nodded and beamed at him genially, then continued on his way.  
 

*

   
Sunday morning: cloudy by Tokyo standards. Instead of dotted whites-on-blue, the sky was white with strips of blue.  
   
Nijimura came out of his house saying his customary farewell to his mother. He had sighed and left his mother to clean up his siblings’ jaws; they had both taken to rubbing them with purple play-dough ever since Nijimura came back with the bruise. After administering an affectionate flick on his brother’s forehead (he was the perpetrator after all), he had bowed to his mother and left for the convenience store.  
   
Once he reached the familiar building with all its twinkling fluorescent lights, he bowed in greeting at Shino-san’s affable smile, and proceeded to pick up the same clipboard he had been perusing for the past few days. A task that would usually have taken him only a day had dragged on into three, all because of the hijinks that had been happening to him lately.  
   
He was finally totaling up all the items when he was interrupted by the tinkling of the bell at the entrance of the store. He turned immediately, automatically saying, “Welcome to the st-”  
   
He stopped short when he saw that it was the girl he had bumped into the day before.  
   
Nijimura stared at her, his mouth still half-open from his unfinished greeting. She was carrying a small plastic bag, and looking back at him with a slight frown. The frown cast a hard disposition across her whole face, making her look stern and aloof.  
   
She strode directly up to him, and held out the bag. He continued staring at her, then turned his gaze onto the bag.  
   
“Here,” she said, shaking the bag. “Take it.”  
   
Nijimura turned his gaze upwards from the bag to look at her face. She was starting to look impatient, her eyebrows twitching slightly as he continued looking at her.  
   
He cleared his throat, and lifted one of his hands to take the bag from her. “Thanks,” he croaked. As he peered into the bag, he continued, “What is this for?”  
   
“A form of appreciation for yesterday. I have to make up for the lost chocolates somehow.”  
   
She strode away from him towards the refrigerators at the back of the store, and placed a forefinger on her lower lip in thought as she looked at the selection of  _onigiri_ available in the convenience store. Nijimura was still looking at the contents of the bag, and he frowned when he saw a selection of protein supplements and a bottle of pain relief spray.  
   
He placed the clipboard he had been holding onto the cashier counter, then followed the girl to the back of the store. When he reached her side, he gestured at the bag and said, “I’m not saying this because I’m ungrateful, because I really do appreciate this gesture but...what’s with these items? They’re so…”  
   
He flailed uselessly as he failed to think of a word to describe the items she had given him.  
   
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then turned back to the fridges, still with a slight frown.  
   
“You need these, right? I’m just trying to get you something practical. Something you can use.”  
   
She moved towards the left, still trying to select an  _onigiri_ flavour.  
   
Nijimura followed her and said, “Yeah. That’s my point exactly. They’re so specific, these items. How the hell would you know if I needed these?”  
   
He saw her eyes narrow slightly and she chewed her lip as she turned to look at him again.  
   
“I can see that you were a former athlete. Quite a high-level one, too. Your muscles have deteriorated since then. Clearly you haven’t been keeping up with practice.”  
   
She moved towards the left again, and Nijimura followed her, feeling his face contort into a frown.  
   
“The protein supplements are to help you with your muscle development if you ever choose to exercise again,” she continued, this time looking at the  _onigiri_ in the fridges and not at him. “And for muscle health, generally. As for the pain relief spray…”  
   
She glanced at him again, sweeping her eyes over his bruise.  
   
“I think you know what that’s for.”  
   
She turned back to the fridges and he saw her frown deepen as she stared at them.  
   
Nijimura was frowning because he didn’t like the sound of her words. They reminded him too much of a past he usually tried not to think about. He hadn’t thought about Teikou in a while, hadn’t  _wanted_ to think about Teikou.  
   
“That’s mighty perceptive of you to notice all those things about me,” he said, slightly accusingly.  
   
She merely shrugged and didn’t provide an explanation, still looking at the fridges.  
   
Nijimura sighed, then took a step to stand closer to her. He turned to look at the fridges as well, and said, “So what are you looking for? Need me to help you with anything?”  
   
She turned to look at him, and said, “Do you have the  _onigiri_ with celery in it? I can’t seem to find the flavour here.”  
   
“Ah, yeah. That one’s quite popular. It’s sold out already. You usually would have to come here before nine to get it.”  
   
“Oh.” She clicked her tongue in disappointment. “Never mind then.” She threw him a meditative glance, and said, “That was what I had been looking for that day...when you bumped into me. I need celery.” She smiled self-deprecatingly. “It’s sort of my comfort food.”  
   
“Right.” Nijimura suddenly remembered the tears in her eyes the day before. As she turned around to leave the store, he blurted, “So why were you crying yesterday anyway?”  
   
Damn it, Shuuzou, he cursed himself immediately. She had paused from her movements, and turned around slowly to look at him. The frown on her face had deepened at his words, making her look even harsher than before.  
   
“That. Is none of your business,” she said bitingly.  
   
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, trying to placate her. “It’s just…” He flinched at himself. How was he going to explain that he always felt a need and responsibility to  _fix_ things, to straighten things up for others? The tears in her eyes had reminded him of his little sister at night, when she buried her face in her pillow to hide from Nijimura the fact that she wanted her father there with them.  
   
The girl looked at him for a long time, and Nijimura felt like he was scrutinised under a microscope once more.  
   
Then, she leaned against the fridge door and crossed her arms. “Fine.” She looked at him with a hard gaze. “I’ll tell you why...if you tell me something in return.”  
   
Nijimura let out an imperceptible sigh of relief, and nodded at her. “That’s fine with me.”  
   
“Good.” She took a deep breath, and turned away from him to look at the shelf opposite the fridges instead. “The reason I was crying...is because my basketball team lost in the final league of the Interhigh. Against one of the Generation of Miracles.”  
   
The moment she said that, all the memories Nijimura had tried to quash and bury deep within him resurfaced. He fought to keep his expression steady.  
   
“I’m their coach, and to be brutally honest...I didn’t expect us to reach the actual Interhigh,” she continued, not noticing Nijimura’s sudden distress. “No matter how much I hoped and believed in their spirit. The reality was that our team is just too new and inexperienced, even if we do have one of the Miracles as our member too.”  
   
Nijimura felt a breath catch slightly as he took it.  
   
She sighed, and smiled wistfully. “But I suppose even if your mind tells you one thing, your heart always wants another.”  
   
The smile disappeared, and she turned back to Nijimura. Her face had returned to its aloof expression.  
   
“Now it’s your turn,” said the girl. “You have to tell me something too.”  
   
Nijimura had been fighting down the urge to ask her about his former basketball juniors when she said that, and so he merely nodded, not trusting himself to speak.  
   
“Why are you working here full-time on the weekends?” she asked. “I saw you here yesterday morning, and I’m seeing you here today as well. You look like my age...so I don’t understand why you’re here. And judging by your former physique…”  
   
She swept an analytical gaze over him again. “Let’s just say I’m curious.”  
   
Nijimura nodded again. The frog in his throat had finally settled, and he opened his mouth to say, “I don’t just work here on the weekends. I work here evenings too.”  
   
She raised her eyebrows questioningly.  
   
“I have to do this because my father’s in the hospital,” continued Nijimura. “And my family needs the extra cash.” He shrugged at her.  
   
She continued looking at him appraisingly for a moment. After a while, she turned around, and opened the fridge door to select an  _onigiri._  
   
“What, you’re not going to say how sorry you are about my circumstances?” Nijimura tried to quip with a smile, knowing that he had just made things awkward between them.  
   
“No,” said the girl seriously as she picked out a salmon  _onigiri_ and a grilled eel  _onigiri._ “I have a feeling you’ve already heard everything that’s been said to you in sympathy.”  
   
Nijimura fell silent. She held the  _onigiri_ in one hand, then gestured towards the cashier counter. He followed her there and rang up her order, the ring of the cash register resounding in the silence between them.  
   
The receipt buzzed out and he handed it to her, saying, “Thank you for shopping here. Please come again.”  
   
She nodded, and then suddenly pushed one of the  _onigiri_ she had just bought towards him. “For you,” she said.  
   
Nijimura blinked and leaned back in surprise. After a moment, he cracked a sardonic smile and took the  _onigiri._  
   
“So you  _are_ making a sympathetic gesture after all.”  
   
“Yeah.” The girl nodded. “Sometimes sympathetic actions are done simply because they have to be done.” She quirked her lips upwards slightly.  
   
It had a sudden softening effect on her face.  
   
Like melting a block of ice, Nijimura thought as he unwrapped the  _onigiri_ and bit into it. It tasted salty, and sweet at the same time. It was delicious.  
   
“Bye,” said the girl, and she nodded at him in farewell. She turned around, and started walking towards the exit of the store.  
   
As Nijimura chewed the  _onigiri,_ he watched her back as she moved further and further away from him.  
   
You don’t want to know about those dumbasses, Nijimura was telling himself as he felt the savoury goodness of the  _onigiri_ wrap around his tongue. That’s in the past. It isn’t relevant to your current situation. You don’t even play basketball anymore.  
   
But he still felt a tug. A slow burn of longing right in the centre of his chest, as he watched the girl retreat from him.  
   
Just as she was opening the door and the bell jingled, Nijimura called out to her.  
   
“Wait.”  
   
She paused in her movements, and turned to look at him questioningly.  
   
“If you come here again,” Nijimura heard himself saying. “I’ll save that celery  _onigiri_ and give it to you for free _._  Every time.”  
   
The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise. There was a moment in which they just looked at each other. Nijimura could feel every grain of rice as he held the  _onigiri_ in his hands.  
   
Then she cracked that smile again, the kind that made Nijimura feel like he was watching a piece of ice cube melt in a hot cup of tea.  
   
“Deal.”  
 

*  
   
   
“Thank you for shopping, please come again,” said Nijimura, bowing a customer out of the store.  
   
He clipped the receipt to the growing pile next to the cash register and meticulously recorded the amount in the books. Shutting it, he walked to a shelf and proceeded to arrange the stacks of magazines on it.  
   
It was a cloudy Saturday, two Saturdays since he met that girl. His bruise had faded into a dull colour, nearly blending into his skin again. It barely hurt thanks to the spray the girl had given him. He had found out her name.  
   
Aida Riko.  
   
Her surname had immediately evoked memories of when he used to meticulously research Aida Kagetora’s small forward techniques, because he had been given that position after he stepped down from the captainship.  
   
Once again, Riko provided that tenuous link to the past, the past which Nijimura strived so hard to move beyond. And yet he couldn’t stop himself from feeling that pull. From feeling the magnetism that the past represented to him.  
   
She hadn’t come back since that time.  
   
Nijimura was starting to feel antsy, and he felt frustrated at himself for it. She’s only a stranger, he told himself. But another voice in his mind countered: She’s training one of your former juniors.  
   
He felt like pummeling the voice into submission.  
   
Fighting off a sigh, he slammed a magazine unnecessarily hard, right onto Naruto’s face featured on a  _Shonen Jump_ magazine cover, when the bell to the convenience store chimed.  
   
“Welcome,” Nijimura said automatically, turning to look at the customer. He blinked when he saw that it was Riko. She was smirking at him.  
   
“Do you have my celery  _onigiri_?”  
   
Nijimura returned her smile with a lopsided quirk in his lips, and walked towards the cashier counter. He opened a drawer and pulled out the  _onigiri._  
   
“Here,” he said, holding it out. He chose not to tell her that he had eaten five of those over the fortnight all because he had kept thinking she would show up any moment.  
   
She looked at him warily for a moment, as though expecting him to withdraw it. But he continued holding it out to her, and looking at her with a steady expression. After a few seconds, she cracked a wide grin.  
   
“Thanks!” she said cheerfully, and she immediately grabbed the  _onigiri_  and unwrapped it _,_ taking a large bite of it. “I really needed this,” she told him, uncaring of the fact that she was still chewing.  
   
“Okay,” said Nijimura, nodding and crossing his arms. “So why haven’t you shown up then?”  
   
She rolled her eyes, and said, still with her mouth full, “I’ve been at a training camp, idiot. There’s no way I would ever skip the chance to get this  _onigiri_  otherwise.” She walked over to the cashier counter, and with one swift motion, propped herself up on it. She started swinging her legs once she was comfortably seated on the counter.  
   
Choosing to ignore the fact that she had leisurely called him ‘idiot’ on only their third meeting, Nijimura followed her towards the counter, and placed himself at the back of the cash register.  
   
As he busied himself with arranging the pile of receipts, he tried to be casual as he asked, “How was the training camp?” And my junior whom you’re training, he inwardly added.  
   
She shrugged, still chewing the  _onigiri._ Swallowing another large bite, she said, “It was pretty good. We ended up watching the quarter-finals of the Interhigh.” She lifted the  _onigiri_ to her mouth, then paused before biting into it. “It was Touou versus Kaijou. A brutal match of one Miracle against another.”  
   
Nijimura heard his heart thump loudly within him. A sudden urge surged within him and flowed to his tongue, prompting him to speak. Glancing at Riko from the corner of his eye, he saw that she had a slight frown on her face as she took a vicious bite of the  _onigiri._  
   
He cleared his throat and said, “Was it a good match?” He silenced a voice in his head urging him to ask more.  
   
“It was...exciting.” Riko took another thoughtful bite. “They fought like animals. I wouldn’t be surprised if they end up being injured from the match.”  
   
“Injured?” Nijimura frowned. “The coaches should have stopped them from going that far.” Those dumbasses, Nijimura thought, and his frown deepened.  
   
“I’m pretty sure the coaches did everything they could. But both of them were so intensely absorbed in the match, I could tell it was difficult to get through their heads.”  
   
Of course it would be, Nijimura sighed to himself. As he arranged the receipts, quiet rustling sounds slipped into the air.  
   
“Those coaches.”  
   
Nijimura turned to look at Riko. She was chewing thoughtfully, and looking at the shelf opposite her.  
   
“They’re all former basketball players. Former national basketball players.”  
   
Nijimura returned to his task, and shrugged. “Well, of course. Kaijou is a well-known sports school, and Touou is up-and-coming.” He paused from rearranging the receipts and winced at himself. He had unintentionally picked up on basketball facts after all. With every sports magazine he handled in the convenience store, his fingers had swayed towards the basketball section every time.  
   
He sighed at himself, and continued rearranging receipts.  
   
“Do you think it’s because those coaches are there that these schools are so good in basketball?”  
   
Nijimura shrugged again. “Probably. Those coaches are very skilled after all.” He bit his thumb as he rifled through the receipts, trying to sort them properly.  
   
“And the Miracles. Do you think they attended those schools because they had those coaches?”  
   
“Don’t know. But probably. They’re all high-level players, who probably need high-level coaches as well.”  
   
“Hmm.” Nijimura heard soft chewing sounds from Riko. “Well, I’m sure Seirin will be fine against those schools anyway.”  
   
“I don’t know, it’s going to be tough,” said Nijimura distractedly. He was thinking about Shirogane-sensei and how good he had been in Teikou. A true mentor. A dependable mentor.  
   
“No, we will be. Even if we don’t have all the resources and experience that those schools have.”  
   
“From what I know, it’s usually the most well-equipped schools that win. The ones with a whole team of experienced coaches.” Nijimura thought of Teikou, and their countless victories. A hundred matches, a hundred victories. The motto was deeply ingrained in his mind, and couldn’t be pried out of him even with the sharpest knife.  
   
“Nijimura-kun!”  
   
Nijimura jumped slightly at Riko’s exclamation, and he quickly looked at her. One of her hands had curled into a fist, and she had slammed it on the counter. She was looking at him with narrowed eyes.  
   
“I’m just telling the truth,” Nijimura said defensively. “Why are you getting so mad?”  
   
She continued glaring at him for a moment, then she turned away with a huff. She crushed the  _onigiri_ wrapper with one hand.  
   
“Well, you’re wrong. Even if Seirin  _doesn’t_ have all those things, coaching experience, equipment and whatnot, we’ll still be able to do well. We have Kagami-kun. And Kuroko-kun.” She stared in determination at the shelf opposite where she was sitting.  
   
Nijimura didn’t react to the realisation that it was Kuroko she had been training, because he had discerned something else from what she had said.  
   
“Do you feel some kind of  _need_ to prove something to people?”  
   
The moment she heard the question, Riko’s eyes widened and she turned to look at him so quickly the counter shook in her movements. Then Nijimura felt a sudden stinging sensation on his cheek- his hand flew to his face and he gaped at Riko.  
   
She had slapped him.  
   
She was breathing heavily as she glared at him, her hand still raised and hovering near his head. Nijimura moved back from the cashier and walked around the counter to stand in front of her.  
   
“What the hell, Aida! Why’d you slap me!” He was gritting his teeth as he growled at her, trying to keep his volume low.  
   
She turned away from him, and looked at the floor with an angry scowl, still gripping the  _onigiri_ wrapper tightly in her fist.  
   
Nijimura sighed, and rubbed his cheek. His face was getting a severe beating that month. He crossed his arms, and looked sternly at Riko, who was still facing the floor.  
   
“Anyway, the reason I asked that question is because…” Nijimura took a deep breath. “Is because I think you  _don’t_ have to feel that need.”  
   
He saw her eyes widen and she looked up to face him.  
   
He continued glaring at her, and said, “I still believe everything I said is true. But I also believe that you do have a shot at beating champions. No matter what background you’re from, or experience you have.” He glanced away, remembering his Teikou days before the Miracles emerged in the scene, sweeping all the competition away like they were ants. “It happens. Well, very rarely.”  
   
He released a breath, and looked back at Riko. “But it happens.”  
   
Her face had softened from its harsh glare, and she was regarding him thoughtfully now. A few moments passed.  
   
Then she grinned, a huge, wide smile that contrasted heavily with her petite stature.  
   
“Looks like you’re pretty perceptive too,” she said jokingly, and lifted a fist to punch him on the shoulder in jest.  
   
“Hey,” said Nijimura, feigning annoyance and he lifted a hand to catch her fist before it contacted. “Are you trying to beat me into a pulp or something?” he quipped.  
   
She laughed, and used her other fist to punch him in the chest gently. Nijimura released her fist, and smiled at her.  
   
“You’re pretty violent, aren’t you,” he said with a smirk.  
   
She widened her smile at him and shrugged merrily. Then she hopped off from the counter, standing merely half-a-foot away from where he was in front of her. Clapping him on the shoulder, she said, “Thanks.”  
   
The word was loaded, but Nijimura knew what she meant anyway.  
   
She turned away from him and walked towards the exit of the store, waving a hand without looking back.  
   
“I’ll see you again very soon, Nijimura-kun!”  
   
“Don’t come, I’d like to keep all my limbs intact!” He called back at her, and he heard a muffled snicker as she went through the door.  
   
The bell jingled.  
   
Nijimura felt his lips curve upwards subconsciously as he watched her brown hair whip around the corner.  
 


	2. Chapter 2

Summer was nearly over. This one was filled with memories of the zesty taste of celery  _onigiri,_ and of a girl swinging her legs on the cashier counter, with the ease that she belonged there.  
   
Nijimura thought that Riko was like a prickly hedgehog.  
   
She was tough on the outside, and bared all her teeth and spikes if any of her vulnerabilities ever showed. Even after showering her with so many celery  _onigiri_ in subsequent meetings, she still looked at him warily before taking, unwrapping and wolfing it down within seconds. She snapped at him if he ever mentioned anything bad against Seirin, even if it were true.  
   
“But Seirin really does have a gym which is  _barely_ a gym, Aida,” Nijimura had said to her in one of their meetings. “I’ve seen it, it’s tiny,” he added, with his characteristic bluntness.  
   
She had immediately proceeded to hit him. He had caught her before she made any contact, but he couldn’t avoid the scowl she had sent his way.  
   
“It’s still a gym!” Riko had growled her retort, and yanked her arm out of Nijimura’s grasp. She had thrown a few coins down on the counter, and stalked out of the store, even as Nijimura called at her back, holding out the money and saying, “That  _onigiri_ was free, Aida! Hey!”  
   
But even if she was all those things, she represented something special to Nijimura.  
   
The tinkling of the bell that signaled her entrance was a tune of reprieve which caused all his worries to ebb away, at least temporarily. She made him feel like a seventeen-year-old boy, talking about school and clubs instead of taxes and bills, which constantly plagued his mind. She represented his past, all her stories about basketball and Seirin allowing Nijimura to delve deep into his memories. Into the past, even though he never wanted to remember it in the first place.  
   
Nijimura couldn’t remember the last time he had a friend, or a companion, like her. He was isolated in school, his circumstances too different for him to bond with anyone else. But with Riko…  
   
It was just different.  
   
“Nii-san! Hey, nii-san!”  
   
Nijimura felt a sudden whirlwind that smelt of pencil shavings and crayons hit him, jolting him from his reverie. He turned to see that it was his little brother, looking at him with a frown that looked too harsh on his childish face.  
   
Nijimura smiled, and ruffled his hair. “What is it?”  
   
“Look!” His brother held out a toy car. “We were both just playing with it this morning. But now it’s broken, nii-san. Can you fix it?” He looked at Nijimura with wide, imploring eyes.  
   
Nijimura held up the toy car to his eyes, and peered at it. Then he made a face and shook his head. “Nope, it’s completely messed up. One of the wheel attachments is completely broken.” Sighing, he looked sternly at his brother. “What did you do?”  
   
“Nothing. Really!” His brother quickly said. He frowned, looking down to the floor and said, “I think it was already broken to begin with.”  
   
At his words, Nijimura felt a pang of guilt run through his body. His siblings only had second-hand, or even third-hand toys. It wasn’t like they had any room in their finances for fancy new toys.  
   
Nijimura sighed again, and patted his brother on the head. “Then I guess both of you would just have to play with something else.” He looked into his brother’s eyes carefully.  
   
His brother stared at him right back, directly into his eyes. Then he slowly nodded and said, “Yeah. I suppose we would.” He hopped off Nijimura’s lap and trotted away, with less energy than before.  
   
Nijimura stared at him as he left, his eyebrows furrowed. Children should always have to stay innocent. They should always have to be free from the burdens of reality, for as long as possible.  
   
He wished his brother had thrown a tantrum instead.  
   
He got up from where he had been sitting on the couch, and took his keys, about to leave the house for his shift at the convenience store. Just as he opened the door, he heard his mother call him.  
   
“Shuuzou.”  
   
He turned to see her with a worried frown. She was looking at a letter they had received from their electricity supplier.  
   
Then she looked at him, and said, “The electricity company says that prices will be increased next month. I think I might be able to re-negotiate my salary-”  
   
“Don’t worry about it, mum,” interrupted Nijimura. He saw her raise her eyebrows at him in surprise, her gentle eyes going wide, although still filled with worry. Nijimura wished he could banish it, just as easily as he used to be able to shoot a basketball.  
   
He took a deep breath, and continued, “I’ll try to ask Shino-san if I can get more hours on my shifts. That should help a little.”  
   
His mother’s frown deepened, and she said, “Are you sure? You look so tired lately-”  
   
“Yeah, it’ll be fine, mum.” He opened the door, and stepped out. “I’ll see you later.” He smiled at her, hoping that it would alleviate the worry in her eyes, then turned away.  
   
He walked all the way to the convenience store with his hands shoved in his pockets and his face turned downwards, observing the stones on the pathway he was on.   
   
He wasn’t paying attention to the route, although he had taken it so many times that it didn’t matter. The twenty-minute journey ended in what seemed like five minutes, and he had taken one hand out of his pocket and placed it on the handle of the convenience store door when he heard Riko’s voice.  
   
“Hey! Nijimura-kun!”  
   
It had the effect of smoothing the lines on his face immediately. His face relaxed into an automatic smile as he turned to look at her. She was waving at him and walking towards him and the store.  
   
The beam on her face hit him like a pleasant blast of cool air on a warm June afternoon: it was needed, it was wonderful. Nijimura hadn’t even known he needed it until he saw her.  
   
He felt the weight within him leave him, shoved into a corner in his mind temporarily as he looked at her. She chuckled as she reached him, and said, “I’m sure you must be tired of seeing me by now. I’m only here for charity  _onigiri_ after all.”  
   
Nijimura’s smile broadened, and he felt a soaring sense of contentment at her blithe remark. “Not at all. It’s been the most useful 150 yen I’ve been spending so far,” he quipped, and opened the door to let her in.  
   
When they both entered, Shino-san perked up and said, “Oh, it’s Riko-chan again! You’ve been coming here so often all summer.”  
   
“It’s only to see you, Shino-san!” Riko said airily. “Nijimura-kun is too broody to be any pleasant company.” She nudged him with her elbow, grinning cheekily at him.  
   
Shino-san laughed at her words, and said, “I’m happy you’re here, Riko-chan. It makes Shuuzou-kun smile more.” He winked at her jokingly. “He smiles so easily around you.”  
   
“It must be because he’s never met anyone as funny as I am before,” Riko said with a laugh.  
   
“Hey, hey,” said Nijimura, playfully covering her mouth. He smiled as she squirmed out of his grip and glared at him. “I’m right here, you know,” he said in amusement.  
   
She opened her mouth to retort, and then Shino-san interrupted with, “Riko-chan! I’ve got your  _onigiri_ here.” He held it out to her with a smile.  
   
“Thanks, Shino-san!” Riko said, immediately smiling again. As she took it, she glanced at Nijimura and said teasingly, “I’m sure this’ll taste so much better coming from Shino-san instead of you, Nijimura-kun.”  
   
“Yeah, yeah, no one appreciates my good intentions,” Nijimura deadpanned sarcastically, and he smirked when Riko hid a snicker behind her hand.  
   
“Shuuzou-kun, I have some items for you,” said Shino-san. Nijimura turned to look at him from where he had still been smirking at Riko, and moved towards him immediately.  
   
“Seriously? Thank you, Shino-san!”  
   
“What items are you both talking about?” said Riko, and she followed both of them as they walked into the back room of the store.  
   
“Shino-san keeps all the items that come into the store from the suppliers,” explained Nijimura, just as they entered the room. It was filled with cardboard boxes stacked onto one another. “Even the really old stock. When they’re cleared and approved for discarding, he lets me pick the items I want to take back home with me.”  
   
Riko nodded, and stood by as she watched him crouch over one of the cardboard boxes scattered around the room, and proceed to rip out the tape that held it shut.  
   
“I’ll leave you to this, Shuuzou-kun,” said Shino-san, and he patted Nijimura on the shoulder kindly. Turning to Riko, he said to her, “Do enjoy your  _onigiri,_ Riko-chan!”  
   
“I sure will! Thank you, Shino-san,” replied Riko with a smile.  
   
“And keep an eye on Shuuzou-kun for me,” said Shino-san with a laugh as he walked out of the room.  
   
“I can’t believe you trust Aida more than me, Shino-san,” called Nijimura, lifting his head from where he had been bent over the box. “She’s the devious one.”  
   
“Hey!” said Riko, and she kicked him lightly.  
   
“I’m just telling the truth,” said Nijimura with a smirk. He bent over the open cardboard box again, and took out a few old soft toys. He grimaced at them. “These are creepy-looking. I don’t think my siblings will like them.”  
   
“You have younger siblings?” asked Riko, with her mouth full.  
   
“Yeah, a brother and a sister,” Nijimura replied. He picked up several old issues of  _Shonen Jump_ magazine, and said, “My sister would like these. She likes reading the old chapters of ‘Naruto’.” With a satisfied nod, he set them carefully aside.  
   
He turned back to the box, and shifted a few items aside as he tried to look for something useful.  
   
“What about that?” said Riko, and she squatted next to him. She placed her free hand into the box, brushing past Nijimura’s still inside it, and pulled out an old train model. She held it up, and turned to look at him next to her.  
   
“Your siblings might like this. I remember I used to enjoy these a lot as a child.”  
   
Nijimura suddenly remembered the incident that morning, with the broken toy car. He felt himself smile, and he took it gently out of Riko’s hands. “Yeah.” His voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat, and set it carefully next to the magazines. “I think they’ll enjoy it a lot.”  
   
They continued looking into the box, carefully setting items aside. Riko was still crouched next to him, pointing out potentially useful items.  
   
After a few minutes of sorting through the items, Nijimura found a book, and picked it up. He lifted it and cracked a wistful smile. “Now  _this_ is useful.” He set it gently on the pile of  _Shonen Jump_ magazines.  
   
“A sudoku puzzle book?”  
   
Nijimura nodded, and placed his hands back into the box to continue sifting through the items. “My dad really loves sudoku,” he explained, as he shifted a pile of old newspapers to the side. “‘Find the definites first!”  
   
He quirked a smile. “That motto’s been drilled into me ever since I was a child. We’ve been doing it together for as long as I can remember.”  
   
He took a breath, and slid a few broken toys aside, before continuing, “We still do it together now. Whenever I visit him in the hospital. I can’t do it on the weekends unfortunately. Have to work.”  
   
He slid the box aside, and pulled another one towards him. As he ripped off the tape, the sound resounded in the quiet room which contained only him and Riko.  
   
“We make it a point to visit on Friday nights though,” he said, sifting through the new box. “Shino-san’s always generous to let me have a few hours off.”  
   
There was a silence during which Nijimura continued looking through the box, and Riko was just squatting next to him. Nijimura continued making quiet thumps and sliding sounds as he shifted the items aside.  
   
Then he heard Riko clear her throat, and say, “Nijimura-kun, what is your favourite food?”  
   
He whipped his head round immediately to stare at her, feeling nonplussed. She was looking at him boldly, stern resolve sparkling in her eyes.  
   
“What the hell, Aida. That’s completely out of the blue.”  
   
“Just tell me!” she said impatiently.  
   
He sighed, then turned back to the box. “Fried rice.”  
   
He didn’t notice her crack a wide grin as he continued shuffling the items around in the box, looking methodically for anything that his family would like.  
 

*  
   
   
The sun shone through Riko’s kitchen window, illuminating the colourful little piles of ingredients she had over the kitchen counter. There were earthy browns of mushrooms, fiery redness of tomatoes and bright orange carrots. All of them chopped into pieces, and separated into neat little piles.  
   
There was a much bigger pile of light green celery pieces next to them.  
   
Riko was holding a ladle in front of the stove, a wok steadily gaining heat right in front of her on the appliance. She was thinking about Nijimura.  
   
He reminded her of a wolf. A handsome wolf, with black and grey markings and a piercing gaze.  
   
Riko admired him. She admired his strength, and his loyalty, and unflinching sense of responsibility, not just to his family, but to anyone.  
   
He was searingly practical, and honest to the point of brutality. She loved hearing his views because they cast such a different light, such a different perspective. They made her feel like she grew and develop every second she spent with him.  
   
They banished her doubts and insecurities that she had long kept buried deep within her, well out of reach from anyone to discern. He didn’t even know the effect of his blunt remarks on her; they slowly chipped away her self-doubt, inspiring strength within her.  
   
And although his sarcasm infuriated her, she would keep going back there. The tangy taste of the celery  _onigiri_ now represented more to her than just a comfort food.  
   
“Riko! What are you doing!” Riko suddenly heard her father’s frantic yells.  
   
Riko blinked, and looked down. The wok had started emitting sizzling sounds as it gained heat.  
   
“Shit,” she muttered, then she picked up a bowl of rice next to her, and threw it into the wok. After more loud sizzling sounds, the wok settled, and long, quiet crackling sounds were heard instead. She threw all the other little piles of ingredients in, and stirred the mixture nonchalantly.  
   
“Aww, Riko, is this for your beloved father?” Her father said simperingly, walking up to stand next to her.  
   
Riko scoffed, and flipped over chunks of carrots slightly harder than necessary. “As if. It’s for a friend of mine.” She felt her lips curve upwards as she thought of Nijimura. “It’s his favourite food.”  
   
“His?!” Her father exclaimed immediately. Riko felt her eyebrow twitch, and she lifted a hand to rub the bridge of her nose. “It’s a  _boy_? Riko!”  
   
He sounded scandalised. Riko tried not to look at the drawer full of spoons, forks, and  _knives_ just a few inches away from her left hand.  
   
“It’s not ‘Four-eyes’, is it! I’m gonna go over to his house now and kick his-”  
   
“No, dad,” growled Riko. “It’s not Hyuuga-kun. It’s someone else.” She started smiling again, as she looked at the pretty colours her dish was making in the wok.  
   
“Riko! Just how many boys are you friends with? I thought I was supposed to be the only man in your life!”  
   
Riko sighed, and said through gritted teeth, “Just pass me that packet of protein supplements, dad.”  
   
She ignored his subsequent whines and complaints, and a low mutter of “Good thing it isn’t for me after all,” as he passed her the packet, and she poured the powder into the wok. She smiled satisfiedly, watching the powder seep into the rice, which had turned into a delectable golden colour.  
   
Nijimura was going to enjoy this meal so much, she just knew it.  
 

*  
   
   
“Thank you for shopping here. Please come again.” Nijimura bowed another customer out of the convenience store, then straightened up. The bell chimed as the customer left.  
   
It was yet another Saturday morning in the convenience store for Nijimura. The cusp of autumn had arrived, and the leaves on the trees outside were turning into a delicate shade of red, orange and golden. The colours bathed the streets of Tokyo, making the streets look gentler than the normal harsh city look.  
   
Nijimura had turned back to the cash register to rearrange the receipts when the bell jingled again. He looked up and saw Riko carrying a paper bag.  
   
Beaming at him, she said, “Hey, Nijimura-kun! Sorry I’m slightly late, Seirin had basketball practice this morning.” She held up the bag in her hands. “But I brought some games and some food!”  
   
He rolled his eyes. “You’re acting as though I don’t have to work.” But he couldn’t help a smile spreading across his face at the sight of her.  
   
“You barely have any customers on weekends anyway,” she said, shrugging, and she propped herself up on the counter on her usual spot. As she pulled out a box of jigsaw puzzles, Nijimura took her  _onigiri_ out from the drawer, then moved to sit next to her, leaving a space in between them to place the puzzle.  
   
“Here,” he said, throwing the  _onigiri_ at her. She caught it, and looked at him questioningly for a moment before he sighed, and said, “Just go ahead. You’ve already eaten so many of my charity  _onigiri_.”  
   
She frowned and snapped, “I just wanted to ask.” Then she quickly unwrapped it, and took a large bite.  
   
“Why puzzles?” Nijimura said, picking up the box and looking at it.  
   
She shrugged as she chewed the  _onigiri._ “I like puzzle games.”  
   
They set up the pieces, and started working on it quietly, both of them sitting on the counter with a calm, contented atmosphere.  
   
Nijimura picked up a piece and he frowned as he looked at it, then said, “So how’s Seirin? And Kuroko.” He was curious about Kuroko. Although the boy probably had the most mental strength among all his idiotic juniors, Kuroko was also the most emotionally perceptive. “And...Kagami,” Nijimura continued, remembering some of the players Riko always mentioned.  
   
He caught a fond smile flitting across Riko’s face as he mentioned them, and he thought of that melting ice cube again, in that hot cup of tea.  
   
“They’re all doing very well. We’re gearing up for the Winter Cup,” said Riko, and Nijimura heard a faint hint of tenderness in her tone. “I’m happy...that everyone is recovering from the loss against Touou.”  
   
Nijimura looked up from their unfinished puzzle to view her face. She was frowning slightly, as she continued, “That loss was particularly hard on Kuroko-kun, and Kagami-kun.”  
   
Nijimura thought of Kuroko and his quiet strength. It simmered so unyieldingly below Kuroko’s impassive visage. He remembered his seemingly unbreakable bond with Aomine, and immediately felt the pull of nostalgia again. He had been feeling it so acutely recently.  
   
“They’ll be fine,” said Nijimura, and a slight dismissive tone was evident in his voice. Riko looked up at his tone. “It’s just a loss in a basketball game, it’s no big deal,” he continued, placing a piece of jigsaw down. “It might seem so disappointing at the time...but failures are nothing compared to the bigger problems you face in real life.”  
   
Riko was regarding him meditatively, but he didn’t pay attention. “It’s only when you can pick yourself up as you are confronted with real obstacles then you can grow as a person,” Nijimura added. He picked up another jigsaw piece and peered at it.  
   
“Maybe you’re right,” Riko said, and he glanced at her, before placing the piece down. “But maybe you’re wrong too.”  
   
Nijimura raised his eyebrows at her statement, but she just continued, “I think that to deal with real life, and all its crap, we have to throw our entire selves into our passions, and into doing the things we love. And that includes caring, to a certain degree, even about something superficial like losing in a game.”  
   
She took a deep breath. “That’s what spirit is all about,” she said, firmly placing a piece down next to Nijimura’s.  
   
Nijimura was still looking at her, pondering what she said. Not when it’s too difficult and too painful to do the thing you love, he thought in response. He turned away from her, and picked up another piece of jigsaw.  
   
“But when real life forces you to stop doing the things you love,” Riko spoke up, and Nijimura looked at her again. She wasn’t doing the jigsaw, she was biting her lip and looking at the floor. “That’s when I feel truly lost and helpless. How can you fight real life with your passions, if real life has snatched them away?”  
   
There were a few moments of silence. Nijimura was frowning slightly as he watched her look at the floor. She was as prickly as she usually was, but Nijimura could clearly sense distress emanating from her.  
   
“What happened,” he intoned flatly.  
   
She looked up to glare at him. They glowered at each other for several seconds, and then she sighed, and turned away again.  
   
“There was a player. A Seirin basketball player. My friend.” She took another deep breath, then continued, “One of the matches last year injured him badly. He recovered from it due to physical therapy but…” Her head drooped lower. “But I can see that after the Winter Cup, he won’t be able to play basketball again. Not if he doesn’t want to aggravate the injury.”  
   
Nijimura was looking at her steadily as she said in a soft voice, “And I think I’m mostly to blame for that. If only I had been a more experienced coach. If only I had noticed his slight knee problem.”  
   
She turned back viciously to the jigsaw, and threw a piece down violently. It bounced off the counter and fell to the floor.  
   
This is the root of her insecurities as coach, Nijimura thought as he got off the counter and leaned down to pick up the piece. Of course it had to do with one of her players. It’s never about herself.  
   
She really was like a hedgehog. It had taken him so many months just to get to this stage, just to discern the true root of the problem that she had alluded to in their third meeting and since that slap.  
   
He straightened up, and sat down on the counter again, watching her as she glared at the jigsaw.  
   
He sighed, then lifted a hand to flick her forehead. The moment he made contact, her hands flew to her forehead and she growled at him. Just like a hedgehog.  
   
“You’re being stupid thinking that way,” he said bluntly. “I’m absolutely sure no one blames you for that, least of all that guy. You’re only human, you’re not psychic.”  
   
Riko’s hands were still on her forehead as she looked at him, but her eyes were widening slightly from their narrowed state earlier.  
   
“So you shouldn’t blame yourself either,” Nijimura continued, placing the piece he had picked up onto the jigsaw. “It’s not fair to them for you to think this way, it’s not fair to yourself, and most of all,” he placed the final piece of the jigsaw, completing it. “It’s not fair to that player.”  
   
He drew back to look at the picture, and blinked when he saw it. It was a picture of a basketball player doing a slam dunk.  
   
He immediately felt a wave of bitterness sweep over him. It was like a tide of locusts, devouring any sense of contentment he had felt as he completed the jigsaw. He looked away from it.  
   
“Thanks, Nijimura-kun.”  
   
He turned to look back at Riko. She was smiling at him, making a disarmingly gentle expression. He only shrugged in response, and quickly crumpled the jigsaw picture, throwing all the pieces back into the box.  
   
“Someone has to straighten up your regular bouts of stupidity,” he quipped, as he shut the box and handed it to her.  
   
She rolled her eyes, and shoved the jigsaw box into the paper bag. Then she pulled out a container, and still smiling, and thrusted it at him.  
   
“I made fried rice, your favourite!” said Riko chirpily. “Try some!”  
   
Nijimura blinked, then cracked a smirk as he took it. “Gee, thanks. This domestic gesture really doesn’t fit your violent image.”  
   
She shoved him lightly as he opened the container. Just as he lifted a spoonful of rice to his mouth, she said, “You really should come play basketball with the Seirin boys sometimes.”  
   
Her words stilled the spoon’s ascent, and he lowered it to frown at her. “What makes you think I would want to do that?” said Nijimura, trying to keep aggression from his tone.  
   
She shrugged, and said, “Well, you used to be a basketball player, right?” She lifted a hand to gesture at his torso. “I can see from your physique.”  
   
As she dropped her hand, she smiled at him. “I think playing basketball again can provide a good break for you once in a while.”  
   
“I don’t need basketball,” said Nijimura. This time, there were evident signs of impatience in his tone. “I’m too busy worrying about other things to play basketball.”  
   
His reluctance was starting to make Riko’s smile fade, and her eyebrows furrow. “That’s what I mean exactly,” she said bitingly. “Basketball can give you a break from all that.”  
   
“Geez, Riko, you’re placing too much importance on basketball,” retorted Nijimura. He was gripping the spoon tightly in suppressed frustration. “That’s all you keep talking about. There are bigger things in life to worry about, you know.”  
   
They were glaring at each other in irritation now. Nijimura was lowering the spoon back into the container; his appetite had disappeared. But just as he was about to release it, Riko suddenly lunged forward and grabbed his hand holding the spoon.  
   
“Just eat the damn fried rice and shut up,” she said through gritted teeth, and forced the spoon into his mouth for him.  
   
The moment the rice hit his tongue, he was assaulted by a mixture of bitterness, sweetness, saltiness and sourness. The combination swirled around his tongue in the most disgusting manner possible. Nijimura felt as though a whole stack of fireworks had blown up in his mouth.  
   
He immediately spat the bite out into the container, letting out erratic coughs. Riko had leaned back in shock at his reaction, and was gaping at him as he continued coughing. He placed the back of his hand onto his mouth as he coughed, trying to forget the taste of the hideous mixture just a moment ago.  
   
It took a while before he stopped coughing, but the taste continued to linger on his tongue.  
   
Once the coughs petered out, he looked up at Riko with slightly watery eyes. “Are you trying to kill me?” he croaked.  
   
Riko’s mouth merely opened and shut like a goldfish. She was completely nonplussed at his reaction.  
   
He shut the container, and shoved it away from him, glaring at it like it had committed a grievous offence towards him. And in a way, it had.  
   
He flicked Riko on the forehead again, and said firmly, “That is  _not_ how you make fried rice.”  
   
At his action, Riko stirred from her shock, and she lifted a hand to her forehead to rub it. “All I did was follow the recipe,” she told him acidly as she glared at him.  
   
“Whatever,” said Nijimura dismissively. “I don’t want to see the kind of witch’s recipe that made you come up with  _that_ concoction.” She glared at him, and was about to protest when he said over her, “Just come by next week again. I’ll teach you how to make it.”  
   
She blinked at his statement, her face immediately softened from its harshness earlier. Nijimura felt a sudden surge of pleasure course through his body at the sight.   
   
“What,  _here_?” she said, with raised eyebrows.  
   
“ _No,_ Aida,” said Nijimura, rolling his eyes. “In my house.”  
   
He got off the counter and moved towards the shelves with newspapers and magazines, thinking that he should probably start working. He had just started arranging the shelves when he felt a clap on the back.  
   
He turned to see that it was Riko, grinning at him brightly, her paper bag held on one hand. He felt the soft feeling of pleasure cloud gently over him again.  
   
“That’s a deal, Nijimura-kun!” She turned away and walked out the door, after throwing him a cheeky grin. The bell tinkled as she left.  
   
Nijimura only shook her head as he watched her brown hair disappear around the corner. But he had a disbelieving smile on his face the entire time.  
 

*  
   
   
Nijimura was leaning against the convenience store door with his arms crossed, trying to keep a grin off his face. He was failing miserably. The corners of his mouth kept twitching upwards no matter how hard he tried to maintain his usual taciturnity.  
   
It was already Saturday, the Saturday that he promised Riko the fried rice lesson. Shino-san had forced him to take the afternoon off even though Nijimura had informed him that he only wanted two hours off to teach Riko. He had pushed Nijimura out of the store, while saying, “You need to give your full, undivided attention when you spend time with a girl, Shuuzou-kun.”  
   
Thus, he was now waiting outside the store for Riko’s arrival.  
   
To his own great surprise, Nijimura hadn’t minded the afternoon off. The worry at the back of his mind he usually felt whenever he wasn’t working or shouldering other family responsibilities hadn’t reared its head at this particular activity.  
   
Instead, he felt excitement.    
   
Excitement for only this simple, mundane act of teaching someone else how to cook his favourite dish. Not  _just_  someone else, though. It was Riko.  
   
The girl who could iron all his worry lines with just a smile. The girl who, with just a few words, could make him talk about his family with carefree fondness instead of with awkward uneasiness, the feeling he experienced whenever he talked about them to anyone else. The girl who was so refreshingly straightforward, which was what Nijimura needed and he hadn’t even known he needed.  
   
He hadn’t the time or patience to puzzle through the passive-aggressiveness and mind games other people inflicted on each other, under the pretence of being “nice” to one another.  
   
Nijimura felt his smile grow wider as he thought about Riko, and he lifted a hand to his mouth to hide it. He glanced at the street where she usually appeared, trying to quash a mounting sense of anticipation within him.  
   
He was just glancing at his watch to check the time, feeling slightly impatient, when he felt his mobile phone vibrate. Nijimura felt a frown flit across his face and he sighed. She must be late because of basketball practice again, he thought.  
   
He pulled the phone out of his pocket, and glanced at the screen.  
   
 _Shuuzou. Come to the hospital immediately. It’s your father. – Mum._  
 

*

   
Riko was running at full speed towards the convenience store, cursing herself for being late.  
   
Kagami had challenged Kuroko to an impromptu wrestling match during practice earlier that morning, which had somehow evolved into an all-out brawl among the entire Seirin team. It had taken longer than expected to separate everyone, especially Hyuuga from Izuki. He had been pushing Izuki’s face into the ground, while yelling out, “See if you can say that again, huh? See if you can say it!” Riko hadn’t even known he had such anger issues with Izuki’s puns.  
   
All the Seirin boys had gone home after that with distinct hand-shaped markings on their cheeks.  
   
Riko felt herself scowl again as she thought about the incident, and then she turned a corner to finally reach the street with the convenience store. She ran straight into the store, pushing the door open and hearing the bell jingle.  
   
“I’m so sorry, Nijimura-kun! The boys were being idiotic this morning-”  
   
Her apology died on her lips when she came face to face with only Shino-san. She blinked in surprise at the sight of him, then cracked a smile in greeting and waved at him, still panting from her run.  
   
He smiled genially when he saw her, and said, “Hi Riko-chan! What are you still doing here?”  
   
“Huh?” Riko blinked again in confusion. “I’m supposed to be meeting Nijimura-kun here.”  
   
“Is that so?” Shino-san tilted his head as he looked at her. “I saw him leave the store just a few minutes ago.”  
   
“Oh. Has he left already?” said Riko.  
   
At Shino-san’s affable nod, she bowed to him in farewell, then turned around to walk outside the store again. When she reached the open street, she placed her hands on her hips, still breathing slightly heavily from her sprinting earlier.  
   
Frowning in confusion, she pulled out her mobile phone from her pocket to glance at her messages and call history.  
   
 _No new messages received._  
   
She pocketed it again. Feeling her frown deepen, she looked left and right on the street, trying to catch any sight of Nijimura.  
   
The street looked lonely and empty to her, despite the glistening rays of afternoon sunlight hitting the cars as they drove by.


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks had passed by since that day. A bowl of cut apples Shino-san had given Nijimura that morning was lying on the counter, untouched and slowly turning brown. 

Nijimura was standing behind the cash register, looking out through the glass windows of the convenience store. An old woman was hobbling on the street, holding a flowery grocery bag. A child was running happily past pastel-coloured shops, carrying a red balloon and being chased by her parents.

He wasn’t seeing the idyllic mundane scene.

He was picturing his mother, shaking her head at him. Her eyes were shut, acting like shutters to the helplessness contained within them. He was picturing his brother and sister, clinging to her, and their uncomprehending stares and wide eyes. He was seeing them sit on cold plastic chairs. Seeing the unfeeling white walls of the hospital. They looked like they were devouring them.

And his father gasping for air. His one, last breath.

Nijimura’s heart was now encased in solid armour. His face as plastic and phlegmatic as a mannequin’s. Torrents of sorrow that should have flooded out of him, unable to be contained within him due to the sheer immensity of the emotion...were bottled up. Shoved to the side thoughtlessly like empty, broken wine bottles, in favour of more practical things, like funeral arrangements or legal paperwork.

The autumn days had passed by Nijimura like a blurry haze. He went about them like a butterfly with a crushed wing: alive, but barely able to fly.

The funeral arrangements were soon settled methodically and efficiently. The legal paperwork was soon stamped and filed away without ado. 

It was now time to return to his daily routine of school and work, after that brief period of absence from the things most people considered normal.

Nijimura had ignored all calls and texts on his mobile phone from strangers, acquaintances. And from Riko. His only friend.

Those relationships were only flighty distractions from the responsibilities Nijimura now had to focus on. The only people who truly mattered now were his remaining family.

Nijimura blinked, stirring from his reverie, then turned away from the window. He walked towards the shelf of books and started arranging them. He picked up one book after another, stacking them up meticulously into sections. Then he moved onto the puzzle books. He stacked the Sudoku books carefully, and without changing his expression once.

Empty pages within glossy covers. Pencil scrawls within dog-eared covers- now collecting dust in Nijimura’s bedroom. None relevant now.

He was just moving onto the newspapers when the bell jingled.

He turned to the door, and started saying, “Welcome to the store-” He stopped when he saw who it was.

It was Riko.

She was looking at him with a harsh glare, and her fingers were twitching, as though itching to go into fists.

“We’ve run out of celery _onigiri_ ,” said Nijimura to her. From the corner of his eye, he saw Shino-san briefly emerge from the back room. He retreated back in when he saw that it had been Riko.

Nijimura turned away from her, and concentrated on arranging the newspapers. As he straightened them up, he heard Riko bite out, “I’m not here for that.”

Dimly, he heard her stride up to him, and felt her presence next to him as she reached him. He ignored her, and continued shuffling the newspapers, making quiet rustling sounds.

“Why haven’t you returned any of my calls or texts?” She sounded like she was speaking through gritted teeth.

Nijimura slid the newspapers onto the shelves after straightening them, with deliberate slowness. Then he replied, “I’ve been busy.” 

“You haven’t been here for the past two weeks,” she said. Nijimura moved towards the left, to straighten the next pile of newspapers, and he felt her follow him. “I know, because I’ve been here every day,” she continued.

Nijimura shrugged, while sliding a finger across a piece of newspaper to straighten out the folds and a dog-ear. “Like I said, busy.”

“What happened?”

Nijimura paused from his act. After a short moment, he continued straightening out the folds. “I had to do some arrangements. Speak with the hospital. Speak with the office of vital records. Things like that.”

He heard her inhale, and she started to say, “Why did you have to-”

“My dad’s passed away.”

There was a long moment of silence. It was only punctuated by soft crinkling sounds, as Nijimura concentrated on his task.

After he was finished, he moved to pick up a cardboard box filled with snacks in order to stock the shelves, when he felt himself being pulled by his shirt. He turned his head and saw Riko trying to tug him towards the exit of the store.

“Come on,” she said, trying to drag him. “Let’s play basketball.”

Nijimura felt anger rise within him, but it was immediately quashed by an iron will to remain numb, and impervious to any emotion.

“I don’t want to play basketball,” he said, and he pulled his shirt away. He turned around, and started to walk towards the box once more. But before he could take a step, he felt his shirt being tugged again.

“Come on,” she urged him. “Just for a while.”

At her words, Nijimura felt anger battle with the armour of ice still surrounding his heart. “I said. I don’t want to.” He ripped his shirt out of her grasp again.

He turned, and tried taking a step towards the box, but he felt his wrist being pulled this time. Anger was starting to seep through the armour, coursing through his body and making him frown. 

“It’ll only be a short while,” Riko was insisting as she pulled his wrist.

Nijimura used his other hand to try to swat her away, and he growled, “What is your problem. I said I didn’t want to!” Before he could whack her away, she caught his other wrist, and they started grappling, she trying to pull him, and he trying to resist. She tugged his wrist; he twisted it out of her small hands; she reached for his shirt-

Before he knew it, he was on the floor on top of her, and wrestling with her. He was trying to force her arms away, but she was being very quick in avoiding his hands. She was trying to grab his wrists, and at the same time, he was trying to grab hers.

They both let out grunts and growls as they tussled on the floor. Nijimura felt himself kicking the floor and her legs as he tried to resist her moving limbs, and felt her kicking him too, as she shifted and rolled under his heavier weight.

By this point, Nijimura was feeling intense anger and extreme frustration. The armour had cracked, and all emotion was spilling out. He was berating himself inwardly, his voice screaming in his head, yelling at him for fighting with a girl when he was a seventeen-year-old boy, and still _aching_ , still so _raw_ from grief. 

His father would have been so ashamed of him for doing this.

But the voice couldn’t stop him. He felt adrenaline pump through his body as he wrestled with Riko.

It made him stronger and faster, until finally, he caught both her wrists in one hand. He shoved them to the side, to look her right in the eye, and glare at her directly.

“Damn it, Riko! What the hell!” he snarled right into her face, breathing heavily. She was panting heavily from the fight as well, her face slightly red directly below him, and she was matching his glare with an animalistic one of her own.

“You’re being so idiotic!” she growled at him, lifting her head slightly from the floor.

Nijimura let out a bark of derisive laughter. “ _I’m_ being idiotic!” He laughed again; it sounded feral in his ears. “You’re the one being so stupid!”

He closed his eyes, and took a shuddering breath. “Things aren’t so simple that they can be resolved by just playing basketball!”

A silence fell between them.

Nijimura could only hear both their heavy breathing, reverberating in the quiet. He felt himself grip Riko’s wrists more tightly, heard a voice screaming at him in his head to let her go. It sounded like his _dad_. Dimly, in the far-off corners of his mind, he wondered if Shino-san could hear all their commotion in the back room.

Then Riko said, “Just come play basketball with me, Nijimura-kun.”

Her voice sounded calm and clear, unlike her growls earlier.

Nijimura opened his eyes, to look into hers. She was looking at him with resoluteness and stubbornness. And a hint of something else he usually saw whenever she talked about Seirin. 

The look in her eyes had the effect of slightly calming the emotions writhing within him. 

Nijimura sighed deeply, and leaned his forehead onto the floor, right next to her head and above her shoulder. He took several deep breaths, trying to control the raging torrents of emotion within him. He felt bitter that the calm numbness he had constructed over the fortnight had disappeared in just that one moment.

He wasn’t just bitter about that, though. He was bitter about...about everything. 

It left a void inside him. A dark, deep void. A pit filled with helplessness, confusion, frustration. And raw grief.

After a few minutes of deep breathing against Riko’s shoulder, he lifted his head and looked into her eyes again. She was still looking at him unwaveringly, meeting his eyes directly. After a few seconds, he slowly released her wrists, sliding his hand downwards to hold one of her hands instead.

As he got up from the floor, he pulled her along with him, so that they both stood opposite each other. Then he wordlessly turned to walk towards the exit of the store, and felt her follow him.

The bell chimed as the door opened and shut.

 

*

 

They reached a streetball court in a matter of minutes.

Nijimura threw basketball after basketball into the hoop with all of his strength, trying to throw all his frustrations away with every shot. He poured all his emotion into each basket, all his frustration into every throw, all his helplessness and his confusion into every erratic arc.

After more than an hour of constant shooting, Nijimura was sweating and panting heavily. He was lying in the middle of the court staring at the sky. Riko was next to him, lying companionably in silence.

It was slightly chilly since it was already autumn, but Nijimura couldn’t feel it. He felt like he was completely drained, all the intense emotion he had been feeling and bottling up for the past two weeks having petered out along with his energy as he threw one basketball after another.

Several moments of silence passed between him and Riko as they continued looking at the sky for a while. It was peppered with white fluffy clouds, tinged slightly in orange. After his breathing calmed down, Nijimura said, without looking at her, “You know this is only temporary. This relief.” He took a deep breath. “After this I’m still going to have to return to real life.”

Riko was silent for a moment. Then she said, “At least it helps. If only a little.”

Nijimura nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah.” He lifted a forearm to cover his eyes, obscuring the sky from view. “I’ve just been hating basketball for quite a while now, for a really long time. And the reason is because…” He let out a heavy sigh.

He heard himself before he realised he was saying it.

“It’s because I wish I could return to the past.”

He heard a soft sound as Riko turned her head on the court floor to look at him, but his eyes were still covered by his forearm.

“It was when things were so straightforward and uncomplicated, and only about basketball.” His voice sounded like it was coming from far away. “You’re right. Basketball was really good. I only ever had to worry about whether Kuroko wasn't forgotten or if Midorima had his lucky item."

And my dad was still around, thought Nijimura. Anguish swept over him, clutching at his heart like a pair of ice-cold hands. But it was muted. It was bearable, because he was already so drained.

Suddenly he heard stifled breathing sounds which sounded erratic. He lifted his forearm slightly to peer to his right at Riko.

Her nose was red, and her eyes narrowed and watery. She was pressing the back of one of her hands onto her mouth, making soft muffled sounds. 

Nijimura couldn’t help it; he released a scoff. “Why the hell are you crying,” he said, with his characteristic bluntness. 

“Shut up,” snarled Riko, and she kicked him.

Nijimura let out a weary snicker, then he covered his eyes once again. A few moments of silence passed, during which he could only hear Riko’s muffled breathing sounds. The ache inside him was throbbing sluggishly, stifled by his drained energy.

Then he heard his voice say something distantly. It sounded child-like, and innocent to him, so unlike anything he’d heard before.

“What can I do?” 

Riko’s breathing sounds had fallen silent at his question. He only saw darkness for a while as his eyes were still covered by his forearm.

Then he heard her say, “Keep busy doing the things you love. Surround yourself with good people. Make good relationships.”

“You honestly think things can be solved that easily?” 

“No.” He heard her shuffle slightly. “But those are the only things we can do.”

Silence fell between them. Then he heard her speak up again, “Another thing. The most important thing.” She took a deep breath. “Don’t isolate yourself from the people who care about you.” He felt her kick him lightly. 

She said all those things with calm certainty and conviction.

Nijimura felt his lips curve upwards, very, very slightly. But it was still a smile, no matter how small. The way she said those things had incited a long-forgotten feeling of contentment. As though things were going to be just fine.

He heard her get up next to him, and he removed his forearm to see her smiling down at him. It was kind and gentle. A feeling of pleasure, which Nijimura had thought happened so long ago even though it was only less than a month ago, stirred within him again. The feeling soothed a gaping wound Nijimura felt was still so raw in his chest. 

She extended a hand to help him up, and he took it, standing up in one swift motion. She turned around, and started walking out of the court. He started to follow her, but before he could take a step, she suddenly turned back to him.

“Oh, and by the way, things haven't changed that much from the past.” She quirked a smirk. “We still always have to worry about Kuroko-kun.”

Nijimura watched her as she turned around again, and walked out of the court, her brown hair swaying slightly in the breeze. His mouth felt tight and strained, as his lips had curved upwards in a long-forgotten reflex.

But it was still a smile, his second for that day, and since such a long time ago. 

The hurt would never leave, and the gaping hole in his chest would never be filled. But maybe, just maybe, he could try to start living just a little and pick himself up one basketball thump at a time.

 

 

 

 

*

  
_Epilogue_.

_Four months later_ : a tinge of normalcy had returned to Nijimura’s life.

Subdued winter sunlight was streaming in through the glass windows of Nijimura’s apartment. It created golden stripes and swirls on the old _Shonen Jump_ magazines strewn around the wooden floor. 

Completing this homely picture was Nijimura standing in the centre of his living room, surrounded by his siblings.

“You want me to go where?” he said, one hand holding his mobile phone onto his ear. He used the other to lift the toy train set high out of his brother and sister’s reach; they had both been brawling over it.

“Come to the streetball court next to Seirin High in an hour’s time,” Riko replied in his ear. “The Seirin team is having an informal game then, and it’d be great if you could come.”  

Nijimura scowled at his brother, who had opened his mouth to yell out his name, and ignored his sister pulling at his shirt. “Streetball? Today? I don’t know,” he said into the phone. “It’s my first day off in weeks and I’d like to use it to help my mum with some errands-”

“Just go, Shuuzou,” his mother interrupted, rolling her eyes as she came into the room holding a laundry basket. “I’ll be fine here on my own. And with those two rascals.” She smiled fondly at Nijimura’s two siblings still trying to grab at the train set he held high in the air. 

“But mum-” 

“Shuuzou.” His mother looked at him sternly, then cracked an incredulous smile. “It’s only laundry.”

He stared at his mother for several seconds. Then Riko said into his ear, “Come on, Nijimura-kun, it’d be so fun if you could come-”

“I’d love to come,” Nijimura said, cutting her off. He shared a smile with his mother. He heard Riko clear her throat on the other end; he could tell she was trying to keep down a spontaneous laugh at his response.

“Okay, I’ll see you at the store in half an hour then we can head off together.”

“Yeah,” said Nijimura into the phone, then he hung up. He handed the train set back to his siblings, and both of them immediately pounced on it. Fighting off a laugh at their childish enthusiasm for the toy, Nijimura then turned to hug his mother goodbye. 

“Have fun during streetball,” she called, gently patting his back as he left the house.

He met Riko just a little while later right outside the store, and they went into it to talk with Shino-san for a short while. The moment he saw them coming in together, he immediately cracked a wide, kind grin, and with his eyes crinkled, said, “Oh yes, go have fun together, you two! I’m glad I gave you the day off now, Shuuzou-kun.” 

Riko smiled slyly, and replied, “Of course! I’m such a good influence on him that I’d make sure he doesn’t get up to anything horrid during his time off.” She turned to widen her grin cheekily at Nijimura. 

Although he immediately moved to flick her forehead after that sassy remark, he couldn’t help doing it more gently than usual. 

The very best, a stray thought passed through his mind subconsciously, as he slowly brushed her fringe aside, his fingers lingering on the brown strands and lightly touching her forehead. 

She scowled at his flick, and her hands moved to her forehead, mildly brushing against his fingers still lingering on her hair. The touch sent a rush of feeling over him, an immediate surge of peace and contentment. It was so strong. 

Even though the brush had been so delicate, like a butterfly landing on an emerging blossom.

“Come on, let’s go or we’ll be late,” she said, turning towards the exit, and still frowning slightly at his flick. “I’ll see you later, Shino-san!”

Nijimura watched her brown hair swaying as she turned, and felt his lips turn upwards in fondness. The very slight upturn belied the swell of pleasure still within him. “Yeah,” he said, and waved at Shino-san before following her out.

They both started walking towards the streetball court together, then Nijimura turned to Riko next to him.

“You’re certain they’d be okay with me coming like this?” he asked, watching her walk forward with such certainty and confidence. The kind that made him admire her so much.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied, with a carefree shrug. “They love basketball, and with you there, we can have a six-on-six.” She smiled wryly. “And if they say anything otherwise, there’s always the Boston crab.”

Nijimura smirked at that. “We really should go all out against each other one day. To see which one of us would win, my karate moves or your wrestling.” 

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” she said, with a dismissive wave. Her wry smirk widened. “It’ll be my wrestling for sure.”

Nijimura couldn’t help it, he let out a laugh at her sheer cockiness. He felt the jolt of pleasure again. It intermingled with a sense of marvel that it was even possible for him to feel this way. 

Especially on the days when despair threatened to overwhelm him, and the sheer immensity of the loss he felt left him unable to do anything but stand still, with his hands clenched into fists. Those moments still happened so frequently.  

He had thought he could never feel pleasure ever again.

When they turned a corner to walk towards the streetball court, they saw that the Seirin team had already arrived. They all raised their eyebrows at the sight of Nijimura, and let out surprised exclamations as Riko introduced him to everyone. 

A bespectacled boy immediately got up from the floor where he had been stretching to strode up to him, along with Kiyoshi Teppei, who had crinkled his eyes joyfully in greeting. He was Iron Heart and an Uncrowned King; there was no way Nijimura did not know him.

Captain, Nijimura noted the moment he grasped the hand that the bespectacled boy had held out in greeting. Hyuuga had the natural sense of authoritativeness and leadership that Nijimura, as a former captain, would have recognised in another. He nodded at Kiyoshi; they had met in a few matches during his middle school time. 

And speaking of Teikou…

With a steady expression fixed on his face, Nijimura turned to the boy he had already been expecting to meet.  

Kuroko Tetsuya. The phantom sixth player of the Generation of Miracles. 

An irritating junior who used to cause him trouble. 

His eyes were slightly widened. Nijimura could see the shock in his eyes, as though he had seen a ghost. And in a way, he had. Nijimura was a ghost from the past the same way Kuroko was for him. 

They continued looking at each other for several long moments. Nijimura was feeling the weight of the past crashing down on him, a waterfall of memories going through his mind. He was sure Kuroko was experiencing the same thing. 

Then Kagami interrupted with, “Oi, can we start playing already? It’s taking such a long time just to get started!” 

He broke the tension Nijimura had been feeling with Kuroko, and they tore their eyes away from each other to see Riko immediately hitting Kagami on the shoulder and Hyuuga cuffing him on the head for his impatience. Nijimura quirked a small smile at the sight, and he glanced from the corner of his eye to see Kuroko do the same. 

_“Oh, and by the way, things haven't changed that much from the past.”_  

His smile widened slightly as he remembered Riko’s words, and he thought of Aomine and his complete idiocy whenever it came to basketball. Even now, there was a dorky basketball boy in front of him. 

Things hadn’t changed that much, which was good. But the changes that had occurred since then wasn’t that bad. In a way, it was slightly better. 

This thought resounded in his mind as he watched Riko punch Kagami on the shoulder when he tried to protest. 

In a few moments, a game of six-on-six commenced, with Riko refereeing the match. Nijimura quickly became the go-to offensive player on his team, the same way Kagami and Kuroko were in the opposing one. The easy way they passed to one another reminded Nijimura so much of Aomine and Kuroko when they flourished during Teikou. 

But the partnership was also different, in a good way. In a better way. 

The game ended with Nijimura scoring a buzzer beater with a fadeaway shot, and Mitobe was unable to defend him. The opposing team with Kagami and Kuroko had won, but Nijimura didn’t care. It was just fun, to hold the leather-bound ball again.  

It was just fun, to return the clap on the back Kiyoshi had given him after the match.

He moved towards the benches, grabbing one of the water bottles in the cardboard box filled with several others. He lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a gulp, but immediately started choking when he suddenly saw Kuroko next to him. 

Pressing the back of his hand against his mouth to stifle his coughs, he turned to glare at Kuroko. “You really need to work on your lack of presence,” he said, croaking slightly. “It could kill someone someday.” But he smiled a little to dampen the acerbity of his remark. 

Kuroko smiled back at him, and replied, “If I do that, Nijimura-senpai, I won’t be able to play my basketball.” 

“Basketball over human lives, huh. That’s the Kuroko I remember,” Nijimura quipped, and he sat down on the benches. He felt his heart clench as the joke slipped easily from his tongue. He had thought he could never crack them ever again.   

As Nijimura struggled to contain his feelings, Kuroko moved to sit next to him. They both watched Kagami do more basketball shots; the game obviously hadn’t been enough to fulfill his basketball impulses. The rest of the Seirin team were still talking and laughing about the match, milling around the court in little groups. 

After a moment, Nijimura started feeling calm again as he watched Kagami. The ball’s rapid arcs into the hoop were regular in its metronomicity. It hypnotised the rhythm of his heartbeat.  

He glanced at Kuroko from the corner of his eye, then said, “I heard from Riko you went against Touou during the Interhigh final league. And that you lost.” He cracked a dry smile. “Looks like Aomine hasn’t lost his skill.” 

“No, he hasn’t,” Kuroko replied. Nijimura saw his fingers twitch slightly on his lap. “He has merely altered the way he plays basketball.” 

“Oh, has he?” said Nijimura nonchalantly. He took another gulp of water, trying to remember Teikou after he retired from the team. So much had been going on in his mind then that he hadn’t thought about the basketball team after that. He hadn’t wanted to think about basketball at all, after that. 

Unlike now, he thought, and his lips turned upwards in a fond smile as he looked at Riko berating Hyuuga for some of his basketball moves during the game earlier. 

“He has,” Kuroko said, interrupting Nijimura’s thoughts. Nijimura turned to look at him, and saw his fingers clutching his track pants, although he wasn’t looking at Nijimura. He was staring intensely at nothing in particular. “However, that is fine.” He turned to look at Nijimura, and Nijimura thought it was his version of a glare of determination. 

“That is fine because I will prove to him that his basketball is wrong during the upcoming Winter Cup,” he continued. “I have learnt from my loss during the Interhigh final league, and have grown much since then. Seirin will win the Winter Cup, and I will show him that his way isn’t right.” 

Nijimura couldn’t help it. The moment he heard Kuroko’s words, he rolled his eyes and scoffed. He took a gulp of water, and then said, “I’ve never heard so much bullshit in my life.” 

Kuroko’s eyes widened immediately and he unclenched his hands in surprise. 

“You honestly think you’ve learnt from your loss in the summer?” Nijimura scoffed again. “You haven’t learnt at all if you still think winning will help you change Aomine. Win or lose, it doesn’t matter. You can’t expect to change people from just a win.” 

As he listened to Nijimura, a reflective expression drifted over Kuroko’s face. He turned away to look at the ground. 

Nijimura took another gulp of water, then continued, “Geez, all you brats put so much agency over winning. It was always like this, even in Teikou. One victory in one match wouldn’t change anything. You’ll still go on with your lives, wouldn’t you?” 

At his rhetorical question, a smile briefly flitted over Kuroko’s face, and he interjected dryly with, “That was not what Teikou taught us, Nijimura-senpai.” 

“Yeah, I’ve come to think that’s utter bullshit as well,” said Nijimura, waving a dismissive hand. Even though I really had been so content, only thinking about the next victory, and how to achieve it, he thought, slightly wistfully.  

“What do you think I should do about Aomine-kun, then, Nijimura-senpai?” said Kuroko, interrupting his reminiscing. Nijimura turned to look at him; he sounded slightly imploring. 

“Aomine might still act like the brat he is even after you win,” said Nijimura. “Do your best by all means, and treat matches with the same spirit you have now with all the love you have for basketball. But don’t ever expect anything to come from winning.” 

Kuroko was nodding thoughtfully at his words, then Nijimura turned away from him to look at Riko, and he felt a small smile spread across his face at the sight of her. 

“But above all, and most importantly,” he continued; his voice was quiet and his tone, full of feeling. “Look at it as a way to bond with the people you care about. To spend time with them, and make memories with them.”  

There were a few seconds of silence, during which he just spent them looking at Riko. 

Then, he turned to look at Kuroko, still with his small smile. “When you place more importance on basketball as that kind of activity, winning in matches becomes less important. And then you just might be able change Aomine with that mindset.”    

At his words, Kuroko just looked at him, and his lips had curved upwards into a smile to match Nijimura’s. He continued looking at him pensively for a while, and then Nijimura frowned at his silence. 

“What?” he said, grumpily. 

Kuroko turned away to face the floor, still with a small smile, then said slightly accusingly, “Nijimura-senpai. That was the complete opposite of what you had told me during one of our practices in Teikou.”      

“Oh yeah? Well, people change, Kuroko,” he replied, and whacked Kuroko at the back of his head. Then he smiled again. “So Aomine might change too. If it’s you, I think you’ll be able to do it. You understand him, especially in basketball.” 

Kuroko nodded, still facing the floor and smiling. He turned back to Nijimura, and said, “Your description, Nijimura-senpai...that’s the way I feel about basketball too.” His smile widened, and Nijimura had never seen that much peace on the boy’s impassive face before.  

“But what you said about winning in matches...I’ll give it some thought,” he said. 

Nijimura smirked. “Yeah. Do me a favour and listen to your former captain.” He lifted a hand to ruffle Kuroko’s hair, in the same way he liked to ruffle his little brother’s hair. 

“I will, Nijimura-senpai.”

“Oi! Kuroko!” The pair was interrupted by Kagami bad-temperedly glaring at them. They saw that he was standing with everyone else; everyone had already cleaned up all the cardboard boxes and bottles, and packed up their bags. They were now standing near the exit of the court, looking at Nijimura and Kuroko on the benches.

“Let’s go to Maji Burger. I’m hungry,” Kagami continued, rubbing his stomach with a frown. 

Nijimura saw a smile fleet across Kuroko’s face, and he stood up as he replied, “You’re always hungry, Kagami-kun. Even though you regularly empty Maji Burger’s stock.” 

“Shut up!” 

Nijimura stood up as well, and he followed Kuroko as he moved towards the group. They were chattering with one another as they dispersed. Nijimura felt a wave of nostalgia again; this was exactly what he used to do back in Teikou. Like what Maji Burger represented to Kagami and Kuroko now, the convenience store near the Teikou school building used to sell really good popsicles. 

“Nijimura-kun, I’m heading to the convenience store for celery _onigiri_ ,” Riko said, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m sure Shino-san has saved some for me.” He felt her fall by his side and he turned to look at her as they both walked side by side.  

She quirked a smile. “Let’s head there together!”

Nijimura nodded in reply, and they both waved the Seirin team goodbye when they turned a corner to head in a different direction. 

Those popsicles would always incite a wistful nostalgia and deep yearning within Nijimura, that would never change. Because just like the hole within him that could never be filled, they represented a wish that could never be fulfilled.  

But he felt that things could be good now. He didn’t have to return to the past to find contentment. Things could be wonderful now, in a different way from the past. With that celery _onigiri_ , instead of the popsicles.

As they headed towards the convenience store, Riko walked a little in front of him in impatience. To get that _onigiri_ she is so obsessed with, Nijimura thought.

Just as they reached the street and the convenience store came into view, he felt resolve and determination rise within him. The burning feeling spread to his fingertips, imploring him to reach out. 

And he took her hand.

 

* 

*

____

_Fin_. 

 


End file.
